


Fragile Bones

by raggedypond



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Community: poetry_ficathon, Community: poetry_fiction, Drunk Sex, Love Poems, M/M, Poetic, Poetry, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggedypond/pseuds/raggedypond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Francis x Charles poem I wrote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Bones

_“As for Charles – he likes girls. If he’s drunk, I’ll do. But – just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. “_

_“You like him a lot, don’t you?”_

The night crumbles to dust as I trace   
every single crease, every nook, every edge of you.   
I drink you in, you drink cheap wine:  
you only kiss me with alcohol in your blood,  
you cannot stomach me without  
the drugs.  
A pile of cigarette ash on the floor,  
broken glass. Shattered ice cubes and  
cigarette butts.  
It’s a scene of decay; you and I   
could only survive if you whispered  
sweet nothings and I let you gut  
me. You lead me on and I always  
slip, and touch you and believe   
this time will be the time you stay,  
this time will be the time you remember last night  
morning come,  
this time will be the time  
I   
am  
the  
one.  
It rains the first time and there’s a bottle  
of scotch; we play cards; you’re drunk:  
I strip you off; tonight you smile; tonight  
you will not mind if I touch   
your jaw  
your lips  
your waist  
and below  
 ~~and your heart  
~~ no – never your heart.

Then it’s a matter of time.  
You always come when you need me and I  
can never refuse to be the one  
who lets your tongue  
explore my mouth  
if only drunk  
if only for a while  
if only for the night.  
I’m there. I will do. For now.  
I kiss  
your lips  
your throat  
your neck  
your collarbones  
and down – way down – below  
 ~~and your heart  
~~ no – never your hear.

You twist me round your little finger and I   
would die and die and kill and die  
a thousand times  
to have you look at me and say  
 _I’ll stay tonight._  
 ~~My Charles.~~  
No – never mine.


End file.
